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She giggled and cuddled closer. “I don’t know. It worked out kind of nicely just a few moments ago.”
“Because you were on top. If your butt had been pressed against this hard-assed cushion, you would’ve changed your mind. I think I have bruises.” He absently kissed the top of her head before answering her question. “Yes, Kelly and Jason found a lot of inconsistencies. As of now it looks like the total is going to be around a million.”
Olivia reared up so quickly that she fell off the couch and landed on the floor. “Dollars? Someone has stolen a million dollars from the company?”
“It looks that way.” He sat up and held out a hand, but she was too upset to take it.
“So what are we going to do about it?”
“We”—he sent her a pointed look—“aren’t going to do anything. I’m going to turn this over to the feds. We aren’t talking about small change anymore, Olivia. People who steal that kind of money can do some pretty desperate things. But I think we’ve found enough that it won’t take long for the FBI to pinpoint the culprit.”
“Do you think we can get the money back?”
He pulled her onto his lap. “Probably not, but at least we won’t be losing any more.” He traced a finger up her arm, over her shoulder, and down to a spot right above her nipple. “I like your mole.”
“That is not a mole.” She slapped at his hand. “According to my mother, it’s a beauty mark I’ve had since I was born.”
“I didn’t say it wasn’t beautiful.” He leaned down and kissed it, causing her nipple to tighten beneath the heat of his breath. Were four orgasms in a row even possible? Unfortunately, she didn’t get to find out before Kelly tapped on the door.
“Mr. Beaumont?” It sounded like her mouth was pressed against the crack of the door. “Sorry to bother you, but I’m leaving and I wanted to let you know that your father called three times.”
Completely ignoring Kelly, he kissed his way up to Olivia’s ear, where he did a gentle flick that had her insides melting. Unfortunately, she couldn’t ignore the urgent part of Kelly’s message.
“Shouldn’t you call him back?” she asked breathlessly.
“He probably just needs some money.”
“But if he’s called three times, it might be an emergency.”
He released a groan and moved her from his lap. “Fine, but remember where I was.” He rolled to his feet and went in search of his cell phone, calling to Kelly on his way past the door. “Thanks, Kelly! Have a good night.”
There was a pause, followed by a giggle. “You too.”
Olivia blushed and covered her face with her hands. Great. She had just gotten over the stigma that came with being the boss’s daughter. If word got out about this, everyone in the office would think that she was now trying to sleep her way into the new boss’s good graces.
“What did you need, Dad?” Deacon sat down in the chair behind the desk as if he weren’t naked…and completely hot. When he noticed her looking at him, he smiled and winked. The smile dropped a second later.
“Yes, I’ll send you some money.” He glanced at Olivia. “No, not yet.” His scowl deepened. “How would Francesca know about that?”
Olivia felt her spine stiffen as Deacon swiveled the chair around and continued in a hushed voice that she couldn’t hear—no matter how much she strained to do so. Was this the same Francesca who had repeatedly texted him? Again the image of a beautiful Italian woman dressed in a low-cut peasant blouse that displayed her plentiful breasts popped into Olivia’s head. But this time the woman wasn’t squishing grapes as much as feeding them to Deacon. Compared to a lush, bodacious Italian, Olivia felt like pale, flat-chested chopped liver. Stupid chopped liver because she’d believed Deacon when he’d said that he didn’t have a girlfriend.
Of course he had a girlfriend. How could you not have a girlfriend when you looked like he did? And when your father was the biggest womanizer in Louisiana? He probably didn’t have just one girlfriend. He probably had an entire harem. Suddenly Olivia felt like she wanted to throw up. Instead she put on her business face and searched for her clothes. As she drew nearer to the desk, she could hear more of the conversation.
“Look, I need to go. I’ll talk to you tomorrow after I get into town.”
Deacon was leaving? The news was almost as bad as finding out that he had a girlfriend. She’d known that he wasn’t planning on staying in San Francisco forever. But she had thought he would stay until the collections were complete. Instead he was waltzing out as quickly as he’d waltzed in. And had she thought that he was going to stay indefinitely? Yes. That’s exactly what she’d started to think. Or at least long enough that desk sex wouldn’t make her feel like a sleazy slut.
She located her shirt crushed under a design book and stapler and shook it out with a snap just as Deacon hung up and swiveled back around. His gaze wandered over her, and his eyes turned steamy.
“Come here,” he said in a husky voice that made her want to drop the shirt and walk straight into his arms. The feeling fizzled when the image of his grape-stomping girlfriend popped into her head. No doubt Francesca followed every order, but Olivia wasn’t going to—at least not anymore. She really hated the feeling of disappointment that welled up inside of her.
“I need to get back to work.” Since he’d destroyed her corset, she pulled on her shirt without undergarments.
“At six o’clock in the evening?”
“I like working late. So you’re leaving?” She wanted to sound nonchalant, but instead she sounded bitchy and panicked. And she was bitchy and panicked. Bitchy because she felt like a cheap slut, and panicked because the company was about to become her sole responsibility again.
The leather chair creaked as he leaned back, completely unconcerned with his nakedness as he glanced at his watch. “Actually, I was planning on leaving this evening. But since I missed the flight, I’ll have to see if I can reschedule for the morning.”
